


Reasonable Doubt

by greenglowsgold



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 1x18 spoilers, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:37:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenglowsgold/pseuds/greenglowsgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is closing in on Barry, and it's not just the bees. It's the buildings, it's the people, it's the feeling that everyone around him knows things that he doesn't. It's wondering if his boyfriend actually cares if he lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching 1x18 'All Star Team Up', with the suspicion and the secrets and whatnot, and I kept thinking to myself, "What would it be like if Barry and Cisco were already dating?" So I wrote it, because I have no self-control. It's only a section of what I thought about, but I'm marking it as complete, because the new episode is airing like, right now, and I probably will be overcome with a whole new set of feelings when I watch it.

Several thousand bees swarming after him, all of them gunning for his flesh and filling the hallways of an unfamiliar building until he couldn’t see the walls, and Barry still wasn’t ready to panic. Not completely, not quite yet, because he still had Cisco’s voice in his ear: “Take the northeast crossway.”

Good. Okay. He could do that. "Uh, northeast is which way?"

"Turn right."

"Got it."

He turned and sped down the corridor, looking for a staircase or a door that would let him out. There was nothing, just a wall of reinforced glass that he nearly ran into before skidding to a stop. This wasn’t the way out. Okay, _now_ he was getting nervous.

“Guys, they’re everywhere; I’m surrounded.” Barry felt a sharp prick on his cheek, one of the only patches of skin not covered by the suit. Crap, he had to _move_ , straight through the swarm, if he was going to get out. He did his best to cover his face — less successfully than he would have liked, since he still needed to see where he was going — and dashed forward.

He was, in theory, faster than the bees, but the corners were slowing him down, and they didn’t need to be fast when they were everywhere he turned. He felt another sting at his eyebrow, and one on his chin, just as — there, _finally_ , stairs. Increased metabolism was an godsend at times like these, working the poison out of his system faster than should ever be possible, but the bees just kept jamming more in, and he was getting dizzy.

The next door was slammed open and Barry found himself outside, gulping down the fresh air to try to get his legs moving, but instead they fumbled beneath him and he fell. It was getting dark, and he couldn’t tell if it was the sheer number of bees around his head or if his vision was failing. There was a voice in his ear, telling him to get away, Barry, come back to the lab _now_ , and he really, really wanted to obey but he couldn’t, because everything was going away…

 

 

He woke up gasping, asphalt digging into his back through the suit, and coughed until hands grabbed at his and helped him to sit up a little. Was this right? He usually woke up in the lab, squeaky bed and bright lights, so why was… But he hadn’t made it back, he remembered, and the only reason he was awake at all must have been the man clutching his arms.

“Joe?”

There was a sigh of relief, a shaky “Thank God,” and Barry had to lean forward and rest his forehead on Joe’s hands for a moment, but when he raises his head again, Joe was smiling at him. It didn’t look like a very happy smile, but at least it meant Barry was alive, so he’d take it. Suddenly, Joe’s attention shifted away, and Barry couldn’t understand why until he saw Joe holding a phone to his ear.

“He’s awake,” Joe was saying. “He looks alright, but— No, yeah, of course, I’ll bring him in. Yeah. Hold on a second. Do you want to talk to him?”

It took Barry a moment before he realized that the last part had been directed at him, and he shook his head before he could process what was being asked. He didn’t feel up to doing much of anything right now, whatever Joe wanted. He just wanted to sit there and breathe. The phone, which Barry hadn’t noticed had been held out to him, was pulled away, and Barry caught a glimpse of the name on the call as it went. Oh, Cisco. Maybe he should have said yes. Oh, well.

“We’ll be back soon. Twenty minutes.” Joe ended the call and slid the phone into his pocket. “Okay, kid, you ready to stand?”

Barry took one more deep breath as Joe’s arms tightened around him to support the motion. “Yea— Ohhhhhh no,” he groaned. Everything ached. The walk to the car was slow and faltering, and he slumped quickly into the passenger seat, letting his head fall against the window as soon as the door was shut. He just wanted to sleep.

For some reason, Joe was opposed to that idea. “Better take off at least part of that suit,” he said firmly, putting the car in reverse. “Don’t know how I’d explain it if someone saw the Flash taking a ride-along in my car, and I don’t think you have the energy to do that vibrating thing if anyone tries to get a good look at your face at a red light.”

So Barry pushed himself off the door and reached up to pull off the hood, then struggled with the arms. By the time he’d gotten the gloves off and the suit stripped down to his waist, he was panting with effort. That was just going to have to do. He didn’t really want to take off his pants in the middle of a parking lot with Joe sitting right next to him, anyway. “There,” he said, in between sips from a water bottle that Joe had passed his way. “Less conspicuous?”

Joe glanced briefly at his bare torso. “Not really.”

“Well, you’re a cop. Not like you’re gonna get pulled over.”

Shaking his head, Joe pulled out of the parking lot.

“So, uh, what happened, exactly?” Because first of all, duh, he’d been stung; there were still lumps on his face that he hoped would go down quickly, but there was also an aching in his chest, worse than anywhere else, and his heart was still beating too fast, even for him.

“Your heart stopped,” Joe said tightly, and oh, _that_ explained it.

Barry considered, remembering all the tech he’d run through with Cisco way back when he was first explaining the suit — shit, _Cisco_. He really should have taken that call. “Defibrillator in the suit?”

“Yeah. You’re boy’s definitely a planner.”

And a worrier, Barry knew. It had only been a couple of weeks since Barry had been running away from a bomb strapped to his own wrist, which was a close enough call for the both of them. If Barry had gone into actual cardiac arrest, Cisco was probably freaking out a little, right now. See, it was things like this that made Barry feel like kind of a shitty boyfriend; he was gonna give Cisco a heart attack of his own, one of these days.

If he’d just been able to get out of the building on his first try… What had he done wrong? He’d gone exactly where Cisco had told him to go, and he’d hit a wall. Not even a boarded-up staircase, or an area under construction, but a flat-out wall, with no hint of an exit anywhere. Barry felt an uneasy lump in the pit of his stomach, and as they got closer to STAR labs, it only grew worse.

 

 

By the time they’d made the drive back, Barry was starting to feel more like himself. Or, his non-powered self, at least. He wasn’t ready to run on water, just yet, but he could at least hold his own head up and talk without slurring.

Joe found him a spare set of clothes in his trunk, one of many that Barry had taken to hiding around wherever might be useful if he needed a quick change, and Barry tugged the long-sleeve shirt over his head. He fumbled a bit more with the pants, but that was more because it was awkward positioning to change in the passenger seat of a car, and less due to exhaustion. He didn’t even need Joe’s hand to keep him steady when they walked inside. (Okay, except when he misjudged the distance and walked into the side of a doorway, but that was a one-time thing.)

“Barry!” Cisco jogged up to meet them in the hall, hands fidgeting like he wasn’t sure where he could put them safely. Barry knew his face looked normal again, if maybe a bit red, since he’d checked in the mirror before leaving the car, so it wasn’t physical signs of injury making Cisco so nervous.

“I’m okay,” Barry assured him, but Cisco’s eyebrows furrowed when Barry could only pull out half a smile.

“Are you sure? Because apitoxin can have long-lasting effects if you have a bad reaction. Which.” He gestured to Barry and took a step closer.

“Here’s the suit,” Joe interrupted, thrusting it into Cisco’s outstretched hands. “Seems alright, I don’t think any of the bees could get through it, but I figured you’d want to check it out.”

Cisco only looked startled for a moment before he nodded and backed up, again, heading for the main room. “Sure, thanks. And Barry, Caitlin wants to check _you_ out, too, just to be safe. C’mon.”

With Cisco leading the way down the hall, Barry was free to shoot Joe a sideways glance. Joe shrugged. He wasn’t sure if they should be trusting Cisco _or_ Caitlin, Barry remembered, and that was without being told how much trouble Barry’d had getting out of the building.

When the reached the main room, Felicity and Ray were waiting along with Caitlin and Wells, and Joe gave them an approving look before turning back to Barry. “I’ve gotta get back to the scene, before they wonder where I am. You gonna be alright, here?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“Okay.”

Dr. Wells moved closer as Joe left. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you in one piece, Barry.” He sounded genuinely relieved. Barry tried not to feel sick. It would only make everyone worry more if he threw up on the lab floor, and he wouldn’t be able to convince them that it wasn’t because of the toxin.

“Barry,” Caitlin said. “Come on. Exam table.”

Soon enough, he was pronounced healthy, though Caitlin gave him a shot of something to help make sure his airway stayed open, and he would admit that the air flowed a little easier after that. She took a blood sample and went off to run a test, leaving Barry to do tapping exercises with his fingers against the leg of his jeans until they became a blur and only he could pick out the rhythm. Everyone continued to insist he sit down and relax, as they hovered around him and fretted.

“That is it for the defibrillator,” Cisco sighed. “It’s completely fried.”

“You’re very lucky to be alive, Mr. Allen.”

“I was very specific that you not die.”

“Yeah, that’s a pretty big thing for her.”

It was frustrating, hearing so many of those lines when he wasn’t sure which ones were actually meant, so Barry put a stop to it, asking the question that had his heart trying to squirm up into his throat to stop it. “Cisco, what happened out there? I followed your directions exactly.”

It sounded more like an accusation than he’d meant it to be, and sure enough, Cisco winced, holding up a hand almost defensively. “I’m sorry. I led you the wrong way.”

There had been a problem with the schematics, Cisco told him. They weren’t current. Felicity made a joke, and it wasn’t funny. “What, you think Cisco was trying to get you killed?” Barry’s ‘no’ came a little too quickly, not that he didn’t believe it, but... How out-of-date could the building plans have been, really? They’d only been needing things like that in the last few months, and whatever renovation had taken place must have been further back than that. This wasn’t a wall propped up where it shouldn’t have been; it was the edge of the building where there should have been a passage.

Barry’s thoughts were all wrong, pinging around his head in confusion. He felt like he was spinning even though he knew he was sitting down. When Dr. Wells spoke again, trying to reassure him, it only made the feeling worse, and Barry had to look down at the floor to steady himself as he nodded. Caitlin, thank goodness, walked in just then.

“Good news: the apitoxin is out of your body. Your levels are back to normal.”

“Terrific,” Barry sighed. He needed out of there, _now_. With the speed that felt natural once again and not draining, Barry ran out of the room to grab his suit for dinner, returning only to let the others know he was headed out. “Ray, Felicity, Cisco.” He took an extra breath. “We’re gonna be late for dinner.”

Instantly, there were protests. Of course there were. Never mind that Caitlin had just said he was completely back to normal.

“I’m fine. Alive. Hungry.” Barry tried his best to keep his voice pleasant, but he’d never been great at lying, even the kind by omission. “All right? Let’s go.” Before anyone else could tell him he should spend the evening in bed, he turned and left the room.

As soon as he was outside the building, Barry felt he breathed easier, just like that first minute after Caitlin had given him the shot. He couldn’t keep this up, he just couldn’t, no matter what Joe said. Somehow, he had to figure out who to trust. Even finding that some of his friends were hiding things from him would have to be better than this uncertain state of _not knowing_. Though, God, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“So,” he heard Ray start from behind him, and he turned to see that the rest of their dinner party had followed him out. Felicity was eyeing him warily, and he remembered that he still hadn’t given her a real answer about why he was off, this week. She was going to be all over him at dinner, wasn’t she? “Would you guys like a ride to the restaurant, or…?”

“We’ll meet you there,” Cisco said, before Barry could answer. “I’ve still gotta run home and change. Hey, Barry, could you give me a lift?”

It didn’t sound as much like a casual request as it should have, but it seemed to make Felicity happy. She waved and told them both she’d see them tonight before walking off with Ray, probably secure in the knowledge that Barry would get some comfort from his boyfriend, and maybe a talk about what was bothering him. Except, that wouldn’t work too well, would it?

Still, there wasn’t much else to do but run Cisco over to his apartment. Hopefully he’d change fast, and they could be on their way to the restaurant. Barry would just feel better with more people around, right now.

 

 

When he set Cisco down on his feet in the living room, Cisco made no movement toward his bedroom and the closet. “Barry…”

“We should get going soon,” Barry said, trying to put off whatever was coming.

Cisco wasn’t having it. “ _Barry_ ,” he repeated, putting a hand on Barry’s arm. Barry had to make an effort not to shrug it off, and he hated that.

“Iris and Eddie are probably already waiting, I don’t want to—”

“Barry, you _literally_ died an hour ago. Just.” Cisco took a deep breath, visibly composing himself, and his voice was softer the next him he spoke. “Just give me a minute."

See, _this_ , this right here, was why they needed definitive answers. Cisco looked more than a little wrecked, and his hand was trembling against Barry’s arm; assuming that Joe was totally wrong about his suspicions, Barry was doing that shitty boyfriend thing again. And if he wasn’t wrong… Well, no. Best to stick with assuming he was.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Cisco made a frustrated sound and shook his head. “Don’t be _sorry_ , be…” He shook his head again, and leaned forward.

Barry sighed into the kiss. It was familiar and warm, and it drained the tension away from his body, so much and so fast that it felt like he was going to shake apart for a moment, until Cisco’s arms came more tightly around him to hold him together.

When he pulled away, he felt steadier than he had since this morning. Maybe all week. “You couldn’t do that with everyone else around?”

Cisco laughed, and it almost sounded normal. “It wasn’t the people, dude. It was the apitoxin. I like you, but not poison-kiss-like you, y’know?”

“Right.” Of course, the toxin wasn’t actually contagious through saliva, and Cisco knew that, but Barry wasn’t going to call him out right now. “How’s it taste now? Poison-free?”

“Hmm. I dunno. Let me try…” He kissed Barry again. “Yeah, I think…” Again. “I think you’re good. All you; no honeybee.”

“Awesome.”

“Yeah.”

“...So.”

“So?”

“Are you gonna change?”

“Oh.” Cisco’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, right. Crap, okay, I’ll be quick.” He proved himself wrong immediately by taking several extra seconds to let go of Barry’s hand, but he was moving soon enough.

Barry sat down on the couch to wait, shifting over a blanket to clear the seat, the one Cisco liked to pile over their legs when they watched a movie together. He’d been spending more time at Cisco’s apartment lately, enough that things like this were starting to feel familiar. It was nice, learning the little things about the place, like how far you had to turn the bathroom faucet so it didn’t drip, or where the frying pan was stored.

Leaning his head back onto the couch cushion, Barry closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He felt calm, here; he almost didn’t want to go to dinner.

“All set,” Cisco said, emerging from the bedroom. Damn, Barry found himself thinking. He cleaned up nice.

He also had a look that meant he’d notice the closed eyes and was probably going to ask if Barry was too tired and wanted to stay home, and as much as that idea had been tempting a minute ago, they really did have to go. Plus, if they begged off, Cisco would take off that suit. Which, _no_.

“Where’s your red tie?” he asked, standing up to stop that line of questioning before it began. He gestured toward the blue one that Cisco was wearing instead. There was a simple pattern of dots down the length, but when Barry looked closer, there was also a tiny R2-D2 at the bottom. “I didn’t even know you owned two ties.”

Cisco grimaced. “I got motor oil on it.”

“Ooh, yeah, nothing gets that out.” Barry wasn’t going to ask why exactly Cisco had been wearing what had previously been his only tie while working with something that dripped motor oil. The first part of that was much more rare than the second.

“Somebody’s gotta make a universal stain-remover,” Cisco said, frowning. “I know companies claim that one all the time, but none of them actually work right. I _liked_ that tie.” He looked up, then, thoughtful. “You know, it’s not like we don’t know a lot of the chemistry involved. I wonder if Caitlin would help me with—”

“Ah, dude, isn’t that supposed to be one of those impossible problems?” Barry nudged Cisco’s arm, grinning. “You can’t solve all the unsolvable scientific dilemmas before you’re 30. You’re smart, but c’mon, nobody’s _that_ smart.”

He was expecting some kind of response, probably along the lines of berating him for calling something ‘impossible’ and taking it as a challenge, but instead Cisco’s face froze, and his eyes glazed over. Confused, Barry ran back through the words in his mind; what had he said wrong?

“Um. Cisco?”

Cisco blinked, looking up at Barry with his mouth open, like he was surprised to see him there. The he shook his head. “Uh, what? Sorry. No, you’re right. Better leave something for the graduate students.” He turned away to shuffle through the pile on the kitchen table for his wallet and keys.

“What was that?” Barry asked.

“Dude, nothing, just thinking about stain removers, you know.”

Barry watched him check his wallet, then dive back in for the keys, and felt the lump from earlier dropping back down, deeper into his gut. Cisco was hiding something from him. He didn’t know what, but something.

Cisco found his keys, and lifted them up in triumph. “Right, good to go.” He turned, smile back in place, looking entirely normal once more. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Barry said, voice cracking just a little on the word. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, ready.”

Looking Barry in the eyes, Cisco paused once again. “You’re sure you’re okay, right? Because I can just call Felicity, and I’m fine with a night in, you know, we can just browse Netflix or something.”

It would have sounded so nice, a minute ago. If asked directly, Barry probably would have caved. Now, he just wanted to leave. “Nah, we should go.”

“Okay.” Cisco kissed him once on the cheek, soft and reassuring, then seemed to pause when he pulled back, only to dive in again and wrap Barry in a hug. “I just want you to be okay,” he said, so close Barry could feel it against his ear.

Barry took a deep breath, and held on tighter, digging his fingers into the back of Cisco’s jacket, pressing his cheek against Cisco’s hair. He wanted to be wrong; he didn’t want to lose this. Still, the question hovered, bright and neon at the front of his mind and refusing to be ignored: Was it all a trick?

Was any of this real?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then later, as we know from the episode, they both talk about what they're not talking about and everything is resolved! Phew! Sorry to end it on a sad note, but you know it gets better!  
> [Here's the tie](http://fashionablygeek.com/ties/get-hip-with-subtle-star-wars-ties/#more-87500) Cisco's wearing, if anyone's interested.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I wasn't done with this! I didn't let myself watch the new episode this week because I was fiddling with this thing, so now I can FINALLY go watch it!

Dinner was kind of like a nightmare.

Actually, Barry had _had_ nightmares like this, with approximately this group of people sitting in an otherwise silent room, making accusatory comments every other sentence. Although, usually, the comments were louder, more direct, and aimed solely at him, so he supposed there was something to be said for the way the conversation maintained at least a veil of civility. Still, that nightmare was meant to be a worst-case-scenario sort of thing; an 'I really fucked up, everyone hates me, they're going to leave me alone' thing; a lowest point.

This wasn't that, but it was real. And the fact that no one wanted to just come out and say what was bothering them made it weirdly worse.

"It's nice that you guys have that level of communication." Oh God, he was going to die at this table.

"Oh, well, no. Not every— everything. I mean, sometimes it's good to just— shut up. Right, Barry? You and Cisco don't usually work together. It's nice to have something to yourself sometimes?"

Seriously? "Um. Sure."

Eddie nodded. "Right, yeah. Some things are better left unspoken."

"Really? I don't find that to be true."

"The food!" Cisco said, straightening suddenly in his seat at the welcome interruption. "The food. Is here."

"Thank God," Barry muttered, and shared half a nervous smile with Cisco before he remembered that there might be another reason for Cisco to be relieved by the change in topic.

For a minute or so, distracted by the appearance of whatever this ‘frittata’ thing was (it looked more like a sort of egg-based lasagna), it looked like the conversation was going to move into more neutral territory. Of course, because this was just Barry’s luck, Ray’s next attempt at a topic was the awesomeness of Harrison Wells.

He tried to sit through it, he really did. He swallowed down the wave of nausea, told himself he couldn’t possibly need to vomit, because he hadn’t even taken a bite yet, after all, there was nothing in his stomach to come out. He almost made it, but he glanced sideways at Cisco and found him staring down at the plate with a blank expression, not offering a word about Dr. Wells, and Barry couldn’t stand the fact that he didn’t know what that meant.

“I’ll be right back.” Barry stood hastily, grabbing his napkin when it nearly fell onto the floor and dropping it on the table. “Just… excuse me,” he added, waving off any attention when Cisco showed signs of getting up to follow.

As soon as there was a closed door between him and everyone else, Barry breathed easier. It was just… too much. Maybe he should have stayed home after all. As if the universe heard him and wanted to test him, the door opened again. He sighed and turned around, sure that Cisco had come after him after all.

Nope, wrong again. “Okay, you have been acting super stranger ever since Ray and I got to Central City. What is going on with you? And _don’t_ say it’s a bad time.”

Felicity, he considered, might be the only person who was close enough to know the context for all this but distant enough that she couldn’t be involved. He could trust her. And he had to tell someone; he didn’t think he could go back in there without back-up. “Okay. Joe and I found out that Wells isn’t who he says he is. He—” Barry swallowed, glancing to the door and back. “He is the man that killed my mother.”

“Oh my God, but he’s been helping you,” Felicity said, stunned.

“Get faster, stronger. I know.” Barry ran his hands over the back of his head; he couldn’t stand still. Now that it was out, he still didn’t have the words to talk about it, didn’t know what to say to make it make sense.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Barry said, voice half a whisper. Like that part was the real secret. “I don’t know anything anymore, especially who I can and can’t trust.” He looked past Felicity to the door again, a gesture he couldn’t stop, and when he met her eyes again, he knew she’d noticed.

She shook her head, disbelieving. “So you think Caitlin is helping him? You think _Cisco_ could be helping him? That’s impossible.”

Barry took a breath that hurt. “Is it?” And now he’d said it, he couldn’t take it back. This wasn’t Joe being paranoid, or private thoughts that stayed in his own head; this was him accusing his boyfriend of working against him, to someone who would remember.

“Yes,” she said, like it was the obvious answer. “They were trying to save you, today, Barry. They _did_ save you.”

“Wells has also saved me, many times.” It should be obvious, shouldn’t it? Keeping someone alive for a while didn’t mean that nothing else that happened would matter. It didn’t mean it wasn’t built on lies. “I thought that Wells was a great man, and I was so wrong about him. What if I’m wrong about everything else, too?”

“Barry, you have texted me at one in the morning because you told Cisco you loved his tostones and Cisco said ‘I know,’ and you wanted to ask another Star Wars fan what it meant. Do you really think all of that was just— your own poor judgement?”

Well. He didn't _want_ to, but—

"Hey, guys."

Barry shut his mouth instantly when he saw Cisco appear in the doorway. It was probably just as well; he wasn’t sure what he’d been planning to say, but he doubted he would’ve felt good about it later.

“Uh, you might wanna get back in here. We could use some back-up.”

They re-entered the room just in time to see Iris storm out, Eddie following quickly. Ray was watching them go with the look of someone who wanted to help, but who didn’t actually mind when the situation was taken out of their hands. Luckily, Barry didn’t have to stand there awkwardly for long, because his phone went off. “Uh, emergency at STAR labs.”

“Go,” Felicity advised, and he did, gratefully, bringing Cisco with him and leaving a short apology. Now that he’d told Felicity about his fears, he kind of wanted to be far away from her for a while, as if that would make it easier to ignore them.

Of course, if his goal was to avoid acknowledging his problems as long as possible, it wasn’t really helpful that his next stop brought him right back to the source.

Barry appeared so suddenly, snatching up the bee in a handy sample tube, that Caitlin nearly shot him with another blast from the fire extinguisher that she wielded like a weapon. In retrospect, he might have preferred that, since his current state of _not_ choking on nitrogen and ammonium phosphate left him free to be thanked by Dr. Wells. He did his best to ignore the whole “saved my life” thing — it was only for show, he know, because Wells wouldn’t have let himself get taken down by one hyped-up bee when he had all these secret plans to… do whatever he secretly planned to do — and hopped up the ramp to where the bee was now being examined through a microscope.

“That is one odd-looking bee,” Caitlin muttered, squinting down at the thing, which hadn’t so much as twitched since it had been put in the tube. That thing wasn’t really airtight, was it?

“That’s ‘cause it isn’t a bee at all.” Cisco leaned back to look at them both. “It’s a robot.”

Caitlin paused, then leaned in for the eyepiece. “No way.”

“Yeah way.” Cisco shook his head. “Well, this thing just took on a _whole_ different angle.”

“If it’s all mechanical, I mean… No wonder they can be directed so well. Someone’s controlling them all.” Barry leaned down to look closer, considering. He couldn’t see all the details, but now that the bee wasn’t moving, he could tell there was something off. The metal gleamed.

“Somebody could have added a high-concentration venom to these; it’s not natural at all.” Caitlin looked up. “Which makes a lot more sense, really.”

“I gotta take a closer look at this thing,” Cisco said, grabbing up the tube. Then, he paused. “It’s not off, is it?”

Barry shrugged. “It’s not moving. But I didn’t do anything, so it’s probably fine. Be careful,” he added, automatic.

Nodding, Cisco turned to rifle through some drawers on the other side of the room. “I’ve got something for it. Here, I think.” He pulled out a small device.

It should block the signal coming through, Cisco explained. Hopefully, without that connection, the bee wouldn’t make a move. It didn’t remove the possibility of pre-programmed instruction, though, so Cisco suggested shutting a door.

“Yeah, I’m staying in here with you.” Barry didn’t so much as wince when Cisco raised an eyebrow. “If it starts flying around again, I can catch it.”

Cisco chewed his lip, glancing through the glass to the other section of the room, where Caitlin and Dr. Wells were looking at something on a computer. “Don’t get stung,” he said finally.

“I’m pretty sure just one of these things wouldn’t kill me, actually.” It wouldn’t be pleasant, sure, but Barry remembered pretty well from the first time around. It wasn’t the first or the second dose that had gotten to him, it was when they all started coming at once. A benefit of his quick metabolism, he figured. For anyone else, a single sting would probably be much worse.

“I’m not kidding.” Cisco’s face had set, eyebrows drawn tight. “ _Don’t_ get stung.”

Barry paused, surprised by the hard tone. But it wasn’t Cisco who’d gone off-script, he realized; it was him. He shouldn’t have made excuses about his own physiology, shouldn’t have tried to be logically reassuring, because that never worked on Cisco. He should have nudged Cisco’s shoulder, should’ve said, “Same goes for you,” and settled against the desk to watch.

He wasn’t doing this right, but it was too late to correct it, so he just stayed quiet and watched Cisco set up the device, then, carefully, unscrew the sample tube.

 

 

It was hours later, and a little too late for anyone to be up, when Barry returned home to find he wasn’t the only one displaying total disregard for normal sleeping hours. Still, he couldn’t say it wasn’t comforting to see Iris curled up and working on the couch, like someone had just turned the clock back a year and a half. He kind of needed a little of that, just now. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She turned on the couch, smiling softly.

It looked like home. Barry had to fight not to use a bit of extra speed to reach the couch. “So, you’re really staying here tonight?”

Iris sighed. “Tonight. Tomorrow night. The night after that…” She tapped at the keys on her computer, looking for distraction, then gave up and set it aside. “Do you think that Eddie is cheating on me?”

Barry was briefly thrown; it was such a normal concern. “No,” he finally managed. “Eddie’s not that kind of guy.” He didn’t have to lie about this one, at least.

Still, it didn’t seem to comfort Iris. “Well, then I don’t know what else he could be hiding from me.”

He was not qualified to have this conversation; he really wasn’t. He couldn’t even handle his own relationship problems, so how was he supposed to… Okay, new tactic. “Iris. Remember when we were kids, and Joe would come home from work with that blank expression on his face?”

“Yeah, the ‘Earth to Joe’ look. How could I forget?”

“Look, I.” He cleared his throat, dug his elbow into a pillow for a better position. “I never understood that look, until I started working for the CCPD. Showing up at crime scenes and seeing someone murdered— It can be ugly work. And I’m lucky; I get to hide behind the science of it and just staying in my lab, but Eddie, he’s out there every day in the darkness. I just think that maybe, if he doesn’t want to talk to you about his work, it’s probably because he wants to keep you in the light.”

When he finished his speech, Iris was giving him a thoughtful look.

“What?”

“Is that what’s happening with you and Cisco?” she asked.

“I— _What_?” he said, again, slightly more frantic.

“Come on, I know I was kind of otherwise focused at dinner, but I did notice a few things. I know you, Barry. I can tell when something’s wrong.”

He shook his head, edging back to the other side of the couch. “Iris, it’s not… I really can’t talk about this,” he finished helplessly, not sure what else to say.

“And that’s fine! It’s not me you should be talking, to, really. But, coming from someone who’s been desperate for a little communication?” Iris reached out and laid a hand on Barry’s arm, stopping his retreat and forcing him to meet her eyes. “Even if it gets a little dark, I’m sure he’d rather be stumbling around _with you_.”

She waited several moments, until it was clear he had no response to her words, then squeezed his arm once and stood. “Alright, well, I’m going to bed. It’s been quite a day.” Her smile was brief, and then it slipped away. “You know I just want you to be happy, right? And the way you’ve been looking lately… He makes you happy. It’s nice to see.”

“I want you to be happy too,” Barry said, glad to find words that felt right coming out, finally. “I do.”

The smile stayed longer, this time. “Good. So tell Eddie not to screw it up with that stoic silence crap, and then take your own advice.”

“It’s your advice,” he pointed out.

“I know,” she said, starting up the stairs. “I’m very, very wise.”

 

 

He was surrounded by bees, _again_ , and this time, okay, he was feeling a little panicked. This was partly because he had intimate knowledge of what it felt like to be stung and overcome by the toxin, but also partly, and he was slightly ashamed by this, because it wasn't Cisco's voice in his ear, but Felicity's. Not that he didn't trust Felicity to keep him safe; of course he did. There was just something to be said for the comfort of familiarity. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to depend on that until it was absent; it was the kind of crutch he should be more concerned about, even if it turned out that said familiar voice wasn't in league with a murderer.

Either way, it was Barry's fault that Cisco wasn't around now, and he knew it. Cisco would have stayed, had certainly raised a small fuss about the idea of Barry chasing after another attacking swarm, especially with the defibrillator in the suit still unrepaired, but Barry had told him to go. If he was so worried about the toxin, he should follow Ray and watch out for him.

If later asked (no, _when_ later asked, because Felicity was not one to let things pass), he would blame the sharpness in his voice on the fact that it was the wrong side of midnight and he was worried about Ray and, really, a steady boyfriend was supposed to be a _constant_ in life, not someone whose loyalty you had to second guess.

He could hear Felicity's reply in his ear already: " _Have_ to?" No, wait, she was really talking to him, but she was saying something more along the lines of "Oh, she's good," and "Almost, I've almost got them."

It was really nice, and all, that Felicity was enjoying this battle of the titans, someone impressive enough to qualify as nemesis, but Barry kind of had a vested interest in who won. Just as he was starting to worry ("Felicity, right now would be a good time to do something"), the muttering and typing vanished, and bees rained down around him.

"Got it. Boom! Drop the mic."

Not bees, Barry had to remind himself as he stepped through piles on the floor. Robots. He repeated the line several more times, because as much as he knew he was only squashing circuits and cameras beneath his feet, some deep-seated part of him kept trying to pop in with 'Ew, bug guts.'

Without her army, Brie didn't put up much struggle, and he made quick work of handcuffing her. "Brie's restrained. Call CCPD." He didn't want to hang around here much longer. Seriously, he was going to have to scrape off his shoes.

He was picking through the remains — now that they were safely turned off, Felicity might appreciate him bringing one or two of the bees back to be dissected — when another call came through. It had been quiet since Brie had lost control, mostly because Felicity was busy checking on Ray and Dr. Wells seemed to realize that Barry didn’t want to talk, but this could be the ‘cops are coming so you should get going’ call, so Barry didn’t think much of it until he registered what was being said: “Cisco’s been stung.”

Barry froze, eyes fixed helplessly on the bees littering the floor. But, they’d been off, completely neutralized, so how could… Was this a _joke_? “I’m coming,” he breathed, and ran.

It wasn’t far, only a couple of miles, but the seconds stretched along the route, with Ray’s words ringing in his ears — something about shock, but it hardly mattered. Barry knew firsthand what kind of effects to expect: dizziness, then muscle paralysis, then the whole world closed up.

He took a wrong turn more than once, skidding awkwardly into a building as he realized his mistake and tried to course-correct too quickly. What was he going to do when he got there? The defibrillator in his suit was gone, even if he could’ve found a way to make that work, and he doubted Caitlin had brought along any handy shots of epinephrine. He could run back to the lab to look for some, but would that take too long?

Before he could come up with an answer, he was there, and Cisco was on the ground and Caitlin was doing chest compressions, which meant his heart must have stopped. Oh, God. His hands were shaking, so hard and so fast that it was more like vibration, and he needed it to stop. How was he supposed to help if he couldn't even get his hands on—

Wait.

"Back up,” he said, and then again, more strongly, when nobody seemed to hear him, “Back up.” He shoved his way in close, displacing Caitlin’s attempts at CPR and kneeling down. “I’m gonna try something.” His hands were sparking randomly with excess energy and vibrating too fast for human eyes to track, now that he’d stopped trying to calm them. He reeled it back for a moment, putting his hands in position on either side of Cisco’s chest, and took a deep breath, letting the electricity gather in the palms of his hands. Then, he let it go.

The body beneath him jerked, then went still. Barry held his breath, reminding himself to count to ten; you were meant to give it ten seconds to see if a pulse had returned, but he couldn’t feel anything. If this didn’t work… If it was his fault...

He heard Caitlin make a soft noise over his shoulder, and made himself ignore it. Okay, one more time, then. He let the charge build up once again.

Cisco’s eyes opened, and Barry had to yank his hands away to release the next jolt of energy into the air. They were back less than a second later, levering Cisco off the ground so he could breathe.

“Either my fear of bees is over, or it just got a whole lot worse,” Cisco choked out, when he finally had enough air to do so.

Barry’s laugh crackled into the air. “You _asshole_.” He hauled Cisco into a close embrace, probably undoing all that hard work of getting air into Cisco’s lungs and all, but he felt arms curl around him in return, so he didn’t bother letting go. He was shaking again, this time in relief. He managed to keep it at normal human levels, at least.

He felt Caitlin’s presence beside him as she knelt down. “Thank God you’re okay,” she said unsteadily, so much that Barry had to lean back a little and put a hand on her arm.

“I’ve never had anybody take a bee for me.” Ray grinned down at them, nodding at Cisco. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, bro.” Cisco had to remove his head from where it had been buried in Barry’s neck to say it, but Barry didn’t mind. He gave Cisco a little shake, smiling nearly as wide as Ray. It seemed to be catching.

“You’re a hero, man. I mean, still, definitely an asshole.” Barry shrugged, even as his fingers rubbed little circles into Cisco’s arm. “But the heroic kind,” he allowed.

“The best kind,” Caitlin added. She still looked a little misty, not that Barry could blame her. He took the opportunity of reaching up to slide his mask off to wipe at his eyes, too quick to be seen. “Also, the kind who’s coming back to the lab to get checked out. No arguments.”

Cisco sighed. “You know, if _you_ were a superhero, that’d be like, your catchphrase. Ah! Okay!” he added, when Barry put an arm around his shoulders and started to stand him upright. “Slowly, yeah?”

“Sorry.” Barry pressed a kiss to Cisco’s temple that lingered longer than he usually would have allowed it to, around their friends. No one commented. When he pulled away and straightened, he caught a glimpse of Caitlin over Cisco’s shoulder. She was hovering and following Cisco’s frowning gaze to the way it took him two tries to get his feet straight underneath him.

‘ _I would have missed this_ ,’ Barry thought suddenly, the realization jolting along his mind like another shock from a defibrillator. Not just because Cisco had nearly died, though his arm tightened around Cisco’s shoulders at the thought, but because he’d been letting suspicions push them away.

He watched them argue about potential after-effects, trying vainly to imagine any ill-intent (Barry had been fine, Cisco argued, but Caitlin reminded him of the differences in their physiology and the possibility of respiratory depression, and the fact that Cisco had to take a breath between every third word seemed to tip things in her favor). It just didn’t come. And he’d almost lost the chance to see Caitlin roll her eyes over Cisco’s breathless insistences.

“I think I’m with Caitlin on this one,” Barry said, leading Cisco back toward the van.

Cisco turned to him with narrowed eyes. “Traitor,” he muttered.

“Hey, you’re the one who went back on the whole ‘No getting stung, No dying,’ deal.”

“I never agreed to any such deal.” Cisco pointed a finger from where Barry had deposited him in the passenger seat, accusing. “ _You_ were the one who wasn’t supposed to get hurt.”

Barry shook his head. “Yeah, but I think some reciprocation was implied.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was meant to be a third part, with Barry and Cisco cuddling in bed after the scene where everyone shares their secrets, but it REALLY did not want to come out, so. Ah, well. I think this is really the end, this time! Hope you liked it!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Truth, Trust, and Timelords](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4238952) by [ORiley42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ORiley42/pseuds/ORiley42)




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